


The Hopefulness of Stars

by veggiewolf



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veggiewolf/pseuds/veggiewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Morinth left the Normandy, her goal was to get as far from the Reaper threat as possible.  But, she's haunted by thoughts of Shepard and what might have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Asari were not as rare on Earth as, say, krogan, but she could taste their curiosity on the air as she strode the concourse that led away from the docking bay.  She knew it would not be safe for her to linger, but this planet felt like a feast in the making – the scent of frustration and longing for release was thick, and her pupils dilated even as her lips curled into something like a smile.

She focused her gaze away from the people she passed, careful to keep up the persona of the justicar even this far outside asari space.  The armor helped; even as it restricted her natural movements, it molded her into something that appeared to travel with the purpose of a higher calling.  At this point, any impossible-enough-sounding cause would do since humans rarely saw beneath the surface if the façade was smooth enough.  In fact, it was her experience that all people, regardless of species, preferred to believe their first impressions and that suited her needs quite well.

And yet, as she made her measured escape, she felt drawn back the way she’d come as strongly as if she’d been tethered.  Drawn back to the comfort of the observation room with its endless view of stars, and lack of prying eyes; drawn back to having a purpose beyond survival; drawn back to the sounds of people talking, and laughing, and loving right outside the door.  Drawn back to Shepard…she shook her head to dispel those thoughts.  Later she’d have time to ponder the pull of Shepard, but right now she needed to focus on getting off planet as quickly as possible.  One thing she wasn’t willing to leave behind with the Normandy, and Shepard, was the knowledge that the Reapers were coming and that Earth was, most likely, a target.

Concourses converged into a central seating area in front of her, and screens flashed with arrival and departure information for various ships and destinations.  She paused to allow a family group, complete with infant-in-arms, to walk in front of her, and then made her way to the closest screen with an individual interface.  Entering the sequence for privacy, then the code of one of her alter-egos, she requested information to help her leave Earth as quickly as possible.  Dozens of routes begin to fill the screen, and as she took them in her heart sank; most of the routes listed included a stop at the Citadel, or on one of the Council home-worlds, and neither was a good option for her.

She’d deliberately avoided the Citadel for hundreds of years, even while traveling with Shepard – to hunt there was risky, as what she was, if not who, would almost certainly be discovered the first time she struck.  Thessia was an issue for the same reason, along with the added problem of asari being all too familiar with her condition.  She couldn’t count on Palaven being safe either – asari-turian bonds were common – and she didn’t much care for the militaristic bent of turians in any amount larger than an individual.  Sur’Kesh could be used as a temporary measure, but the thought of being surrounded by groups of salarians in what she liked to call “full flight” was not appealing.  Besides, as a Council home-world they were as likely to be a Reaper target as the others.  And so, as she knew she’d have to, she requested routes that went directly from Earth into the Traverse.  One route appeared on the screen before her.

Six hours later, she found herself occupying a cabin on a ship headed to Eden Prime.


	2. Chapter 2

The cabin was not large - she could cross its length in two strides, and lack of a viewport after the glorious views from Normandy made her feel closed-in and trapped.  The berth was comfortable, as berths went, and the locker beneath it was large enough for the few things she had with her - the justicar role meant carrying only armor and weapons, which always seemed to her a waste.  There was a small sink on the wall with non-potable water for washing, and a mirror above that...and that was it.  She sighed and sat down on the berth, pulling her boots off.  _At least it is a short flight_ , she mused as she wiggled her toes.  _I'll only be on this ship for a couple of hours at most._   She laid back, put her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes.

A dozen images flashed across the insides of her eyelids, but she ignored them, focusing instead on what to do once this ship landed and she found herself on another human world.  It occurred to her that she was out of the habit of planning two or three steps ahead, something that needed to be remedied as quickly as possible if she intended to do more than be picked up by the next justicar that happened upon her.  She laughed aloud, remembering how Samara looked after their final meeting on Omega, after Shepard betrayed her.  Who'd have thought Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, would choose an Ardat-Yakshi to replace a justicar!

Shepard again.  She sat up quickly, then swore as she hit her head against the low ceiling.  Rubbing her crest with one hand, she noted how distracting thoughts of Shepard were and resolved _again_ not to dwell on the topic until she had the luxury of time.  She shook her head suddenly - having time for more than survival wasn't looking likely any time soon, and she didn't think she'd be able to lock thoughts of Shepard away forever.  But now was definitely not the time.

She laid back again and thought about Eden Prime.  Agrarian, quiet, even pastoral if people were to be believed.  The capital, Constant, might _just_ be large enough to hide oneself... _if_ other asari were about.  Roughly four million people on the entire planet, comfortable temperatures, and nary a mention of a Reaper since Saren's invasion.  It wasn't the kind of place she thought she'd ever go, preferring heavily populated urban areas with some kind of criminal element so she would be largely unnoticed.  But, Eden Prime would do until she found a better option.

A voice came over the loudspeaker: "This is Captain Staunis speaking.  We expect to be docked at Constant in roughly 30 minutes, barring any last minute problems.  Passengers, it's been a pleasure having you aboard.  Secure all belongings in preparation for landing.  Crew, take stations, and prepare docking sequences."

She pulled her boots on, then stood and adjusted her armor and headpiece while looking in the mirror.  While almost positive Samara never went to Eden Prime and never came in contact with any of the planet's permanent residents, there was always a chance of running into someone who thought they knew her, and she didn't want to take any chances.  She cleared her throat several times, and began to practice the phrases she'd memorized so long ago, watching her reflection closely:

_"Thank you for your offer.  I, however, seek nothing more than justice."_  
_"I am hunting a dangerous fugitive, and am sworn to pursue her anywhere she goes."_  
_"Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess."_  
_"If you have need of me, I will be meditating_

A thought made her snicker - although her body language was a perfect imitation, she'd never quite mastered the sanctimonious notes that went with those phrases.  Then again, no one ever seemed to notice it but her.


	3. Chapter 3

Constant was not what she expected, although she really wasn't sure what she _should_ expect.  To begin with, it looked like nothing was repaired since the geth, led by Saren, attacked.   The scorch marks from weapon fire were everywhere, along with pits and craters caused by rocket impact.  Against the agricultural landscape, and the obvious care that was taken to ensure that the environment was disturbed as little as possible, the evidence of battle felt seriously wrong.

The city itself had a small footprint; it was built more up than out in the manner of a traditional arcology, and large windows were everywhere to allow natural light into the structure...some of which appeared to be missing broken panes of plasglass.  She shook her head in amazement, then glanced around to see if anyone else was gaping, but the people around her, walking purposefully toward whatever their business was, were either used to the destruction or were pointedly ignoring it.

She stopped in what appeared to be a small plaza, and sat down on an available bench to take stock.  Among the mostly human traffic crossing it, she spotted several asari and a volus, also moving with an apparent goal in mind.  No one pointed, or stared at them;  _At least they're not xenophobic here_ , she thought, turning her head to take in the scene.  _But, it's so empty!_   She felt off-balance, and with that feeling came the need to hunt, to drown herself in the touch and taste of another.  Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply for a moment or two, pushing her desires down for now.  First, food and drink, and somewhere to stay.  Then, _sustenance_.

She opened her eyes and stopped the next person was walking past.  "Excuse me," she said, lowering the pitch of her normal speaking voice slightly, "but do you have a moment to help me?"

"Pleasantly, of course, asari.  What might I do for you?"  The elcor regarded her with interest.

"I wondered if you could recommend somewhere to eat," she replied.  "I've just arrived, on the _Dionysia,_ and I've never been to Eden Prime before."  She smiled at him, parting her lips just slightly.  His face brightened.

"Happily, I can direct to you an establishment run by my sister."  She noticed his posture change, and almost laughed.  Were she another elcor, he would never have been so blatant, but they were used to assuming that other species couldn't read their body language or sense their scent changes.  "Proudly, it was the first repaired and reopened after the geth attack; her customers insisted that it be made a civic priority."

"Really?"  She looked down for the count of five, then looked up and into his eyes.  "Your sister must be very well-liked here.  What's her specialty?"

"Laughing, she is fascinated with human culture and history.  Her restaurant is based on a design that is over 200 years old called a "diner".  You have never seen anything like it, asari."  The sides of his face moved back, slightly, as he looked at her.

"It sounds perfect.  Will you show me?"  She stood, and noted as his gaze moved from the top of her head all the way down her body.  _Some things never change_ , she thought, amused, and treated him to a look that conveyed her appreciation for his manliness and apparent strength.

"Delightedly, I would be honored, asari."  He puffed slightly and cocked his head in the direction of the diner.

"Please," she said.  "Call me...Myrrha."


	4. Chapter 4

Under the guise of her alias, she was introduced to the elcor's sister ("Welcoming, please call me Hanneth.") as a recent arrival to Constant, and offered a chance to use the shower in the apartment behind the diner ("Frankly, I am sure you didn't get the chance to wash on the ship.")

As she stood in the shower, letting the water run over her, she felt her mood shift.  Perhaps it was the water ( _Ohhhhh...hot water..._ ), perhaps it was ( _Finally!)_ being able to get out of that horrible justicar armor, but she finally felt separate from everything that happened with the Normandy team.  Being discovered by Samara, battling the Collectors, even Shepard...it all seemed to have happened to someone else, as if she could wash all of it down the drain when she rinsed the suds from her body and start over.  Only two things were in the forefront of her mind now - having some _thing_ for dinner, and having some _one_ for dessert.

She stepped out of the shower, dried, dressed in her traditional commando-style leathers, and then carefully packed Samara's armor away in her case.  She wasn't eager to don it any time soon, but at the same time she knew it was the best disguise when she found herself in asari space again...and she knew she'd end up there at some point.  She always did.

Just as she clicked the locks on the case, Hanneth walked into the room.  "Myrrha, happily, you look so much more relaxed.  Are you ready for something to eat?"

"Yes, thank you.  And thank you again for the shower." She inclined her body slightly in Hanneth's direction, aptly mimicking an elcor expression of gratitude.   This thrilled the elcor.  "Surprised, you know something of our ways!  Have you spent much time with our people?"  Hanneth was positively beaming at this point, although it would probably take another elcor to really see it.

"Many years ago, I spent a few months on Dekuuna," she admitted.  "It was an experience I will never forget, and your people were so kind to me."  She conveniently omitted the circumstances that led her to the elcor homeworld, as well as those that led her to leave.  "I developed an interest in learning elcor communication while I was there."  _As well as other things_ _..._

"Plainly, few other species come to Dekuuna."  Hanneth turned and led her down a small hall and into the main room of the diner.  "Regretfully, although our people have spread throughout the galaxy and have learned much about other planets, it seems that learning more about Dekuuna is not a priority for most."  Hanneth turned back to face her.  "Pleasantly, would you like to sit at the counter, or in a booth?  May I get you something to drink?"

"Booth, I think."  She walked to one indicated by Hanneth, and picked up a menu.  "And, a glass of water would be lovely for now."

"Sassily, you got it, hon."  The elcor walked behind the counter and disappeared through a doorway.

She looked around, with interest.  _What did they call this place, a diner?_   The name made sense to her, but she'd never seen anything decorated even remotely close to this.  The floor was covered in a material with a pattern of large squares in red and off-white, and the ceiling was arched and reflective.  Fans with large globe lights spun lazily, and there was a counter with twelve stools in front of it and a window-like area that opened into the kitchen.  The walls were covered with holos of humans in front of other places with signs that said things like "Bendix Diner", and "Rosebud - Food and Spirits", and "29 DINER - OPEN 24 HRS".  _This is fascinating_ , she thought, _an elcor taking to the culture of another species_.  She picked up the menu and started going through the pages.


	5. Chapter 5

An hour later, sipping a glass of wine, she was surrounded by regular customers who tossed their orders at Hanneth's assistant with practiced ease.  The things they ordered had fascinating names ( _What on Earth is an 'Eve with a lid'?_ ), and they consumed their food with unmistakable pleasure.  Her own meal (a slice of some sort of protein loaf with a red sauce, mashed starchy tuber, round green vegetables) was good and filling, and she could see why Hanneth's establishment was popular.  The people interacted with each other, talking and laughing, and she could feel the shifting air currents that spoke of emotions that were being kept under wraps.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, knowing that she shouldn't hunt here but being too long away from the chase to resist.

A quickened pulse sounded in her ears, and she opened her eyes and looked to the left.  There, at the table, sat a group of people from the same workplace ( _dressed nearly identically_ ) eating together, one of whom was very obviously trying not to catch her eye.  She smiled to herself; even though she was used to people staring it was easy to tell he'd been pulled to look by something more, and once again her point was proved: while the Ardat-Yakshi could hunt and draw people to her with ease, some prey came to her of their own accord, before she'd even noticed they were there.  _Stupid biologists_ , she thought, willing her (hopefully) newest victim to come to her.

He did, as his group was leaving to go back to work.  He was tall, but not overly so, and looked fit without being too muscular.  His dark hair was cut short, but she could see that it would probably curl if he let it grow, and his eyes were bright and eager.  She looked into them for a split second and felt his neurons fire signals up his spine.  _Perfect_.

He spoke, and his voice was raw with a need he was trying to keep hidden.  "Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice your traveling case.  Are you new to the area?"

"I am," she said, opening her pores to allow her scent to waft toward him.  "I've been wanting to visit Eden Prime for some time, and where better to start than the capital city?"  She focused her eyes on his mouth and moistened her own lips slowly.   She heard him take a step forward, and looked back into his eyes.  "I take it you are a local?"

"Born and bred on Eden Prime," he said, and she caught just a hint of distaste in his voice.  _Another point to consider_.  "I was born just under a year after my parents arrived to set up their farm."

"That's funny," she replied.  "You don't look anything like a farmer to me."  She put a slight emphasis on _anything_ and felt his body respond.

"I'm not," he said, proudly.  "First off the farm; I knew I didn't want to stick around out there.  I work in finance now."  He preened slightly, and she had to hold in a laugh.  _Proud of yourself, are you?_

"Finance!"  She widened her eyes in what he took for appreciation.  "That's impressive.  Where did you study?"  She motioned for him to take a seat across from her, and he sat down quickly.  As he told her a tale of "knowing he was meant for more than digging in the dirt" and "wanting to prove himself against the greatest minds of the galaxy", she tuned him out, concentrating instead on the signals his body was sending to hers.


	6. Chapter 6

The food was mediocre and the wine he chose sub-par, but his enthusiasm made up for both things, and she managed to push the hunger down far enough to hear what he was saying rather than a roaring in her ears.  His conversation was far from interesting, but she couldn't risk a slip here - too many witnesses, and this restaurant/bar/club had potential to be a real hunting ground, as long as she was careful not to establish a pattern of anything except drinking and dancing.

She scanned the environment carefully, having located four potential exits within the first few minutes of their arrival.  The table they occupied was in the center of the room, just steps away from the dance floor, and she knew he'd chosen it for the purpose of showing her off.  Banks of booths were along the far wall, and she noted that at least two were shadowed enough for privacy.  Food and drink was ordered through a console in the center of each table, and brought by enthusiastic servers, but she imagined that activity would die down once the music started and the dance floor opened up.

She smiled at him in response to something he said, and then went back to her own thoughts.  The dress she wore was of a classic asari style - long skirt, a bodice that was sleeveless and open down the center front while hugging her sides and back, and capped off with an attached hood ([much like the one on the far right](http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/iskander42/Passing%20Time%20Designs/AsarisClothingConcepts.jpg)).  It was lightweight and all-of-a-piece, easily folded into a travel case, and the fabric was the darkest inky black the designer could find, with tiny mirrors set in a line up the back that traced her spine.  _Too bad she'll never make another_ , she thought.

As if he could read her thoughts, which she knew wasn't possible, he said, "You look amazing.  I've never seen a dress like that before."

"It was a gift from the designer," she responded lightly.  "There was only one made, and I was lucky enough to be the one she gave it to."

"It suits you," he said.  "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."  The look in his eyes was all too familiar, and she felt her hunger flare again, but she restricted her reaction to a dilation of her pupils that she knew he'd notice.  "Would you care for another drink?"

"Definitely," she replied.  "Could we try something other than wine?  I'm interested in experiencing new things, and I'd love to try something _uniquely_ human."

"Absolutely!"  He beamed at her, and dialed up a drink menu on the console.  "Have you ever tried a real, classic martini?"

"I don't think I have," she lied.  Truth was, martinis were all the rage right after First Contact with the humans, and she'd had them several times.  She enjoyed them - the tang of botanicals paired with a cold, cold bite, the hint of saltiness from the small green fruit called an olive.  She put that enjoyment into her voice as she said, "I'd love to try one, if you think I'd like it," and watched him punch in their order.

A couple of minutes later, two frosted glasses were brought to their table.  They each took one and he moved his glass over so it would clink against hers.  "Cheers," he said.

"Cheers," she responded, and took a delicate swallow.  _Ohhhh, that's it_ , she thought.  The slight burn hit her throat and she almost swooned with pleasure.  _A good drink is almost as stimulating as sex_ _.  Almost, but not quite._   She looked into his eyes and said, "Oh, I _like_ that."

"I thought you might."  He fiddled with his own glass for a moment, as if he didn't know what to say next, then in one movement leaned across the table and pressed his mouth to hers.


	7. Chapter 7

She awoke, fully refreshed for the first time in what seemed like ages, and stretched languidly.  A gentle humming pulsed within her body, moving back and forth from her core to the tips of her limbs.  Her skin, to her eyes, seemed filled with lambent light, and she knew when she went to the mirror she'd see none of the scars she carried from the hunger.

Rolling onto her side, she allowed her mind to play back some of the scenes from the night before.  _His scent is one of fear and desire, and I can taste him through it.  His tongue in my mouth is wet and thick, and when I bite down gently the hairs on his neck stand up.  His body under my hands, muscles throbbing.  I am drowning in the feel of him - I_ want _to drown in the feel of him._

She purred to herself, and turned on her back, eyes closed.  _His mouth on my neck, tracing a line down across my collarbone.  My nipple in his teeth, and I gasp when he bites down, although he could do it harder.  Hands moving down, across my stomach, until he finds the wetness between my legs and I moan.  He strokes me, and I sit up and tear his clothes from his body.  I throw him onto the bed. I..._

She stopped for a moment, luxuriating in the feel of her own skin under her hands as she stroked her arms, then down the sides of her torso and across her stomach.  She gasped as her fingers dipped down to rest on her hard nodule, and then began to stroke it lightly.

_...mount him, and he is shining with sweat as I rock my hips back and forth.  I tighten around him, and he cries out, begging me to slow before he spends; I ignore him, and ride until my breath comes in gasps and I'm right on the edge of the cliff and then...  
_

Her hips began to rock in tune with her fingers, which were now pressing down firmly as they moved back and forth.  Her breath quickened.

_...he spends inside me, and I lean down and pull him into my gaze and he is inside me and I am inside him and the smell is a fountain of copper, of fresh meat, and of ozone.  Every synapse is on fire, and all my cells are pulsing together.  I flare, and spasm..._

Her body went stiff and she hissed through her teeth and then fell back, limp.  She heard the roar of her own pulse in her ears, and parted her lips once she was sure no sound would escape.  Rolling onto her stomach, she laid her head against the cool surface of the pillow and took slow, deep breaths until her head cleared.

_Check that,_ she thought.  _Sex beats a good drink any day of the week._


	8. Chapter 8

She stayed in Constant for nearly a month before deciding to see more of Eden Prime, and she claimed two other victims during this time.  In addition to the "young financier", as she thought of him, there was a maiden asari just out from under her parents' roof on Illium ( _Naïve and delicious_ ) who was exploring human space, and a turian engineer ( _Outwardly staid but inwardly passionate_ ) who specialized in arcological design.  Neither were likely to be missed, being transients, and neither had a connection to the other or to her first prey.  She was careful, and the locals loved how enthusiastic she appeared about their lives and about Constant in general, so she was above suspicion.  Still, it was better for her to leave the city if she planned to hunt...and she _always_ planned to hunt.

She set out from Constant on a pleasant morning with just a hint of a breeze; it was cool enough to wear her leathers, but warm enough not to require additional cover.   She walked, following an obviously well-traveled road and it amused her.  _Trust the humans to have roads when their vehicles hover above them!_   The sun kissed her face with gentle heat, and she was nearly full to bursting with energy - the turian was only two days before, and it always took a bit of time for her to balance out afterwards.  She slung her travel case over her back and began to run, thrilling in the feelings of exhilaration.

The sun was high in the sky when she stopped her run and paused to catch her breath.  All around her were fields of grain, green and gold as they swayed in the breeze, and on that breeze she could smell that the soil was laden with nutrients and moisture.  Usually, a pastoral scene would send her packing and looking for a city with a seedy back alley or two, but this time it caught her attention.  Perhaps it was the high from the turian, or the fact that she'd fed well for the past month, or the fact that she knew she wasn't being hunted...but her surroundings intrigued her.  She wondered what type of people chose to settle in such a place, and whether they'd welcome her.  She wondered if she'd be able to find a place to stay, and something to eat.  _What do they feel like, the people in these places?  What makes them choose this?  Will they tell me?  Will they_ show _me?_

As she walked and mulled things over, her thoughts turned again to Shepard.  She let them have their way - at the moment, she was satiated and not pursued, and she could afford a tiny bit of sentimentality.  The fact that she harbored _any_ was a surprise to her, but Shepard wormed her way under her skin, and into her brain.  Shepard, with her muscled body as supple as any asari's, her ridiculous but strangely alluring hair knotted up at the back of her head, her piercing green eyes that showed desire and passion as easily as cold anger...no, she'd not forget Shepard if she lived to be a matriarch.  It was possible that allowing sentiment where Shepard was concerned would be her last great regret, for she was determined not to make the same mistake again.

She continued down the road, flashes of Shepard rolling through her mind, and cursed the Alliance again for interrupting the flow of the two of them before she could conclude it properly.  She'd always managed to disentangle herself before, often with delightful results, but this way...it was simply intolerable.


	9. Chapter 9

Shepard stared at her as her words sunk in.  "What do you mean, 'I'm leaving when we get to Earth'?"

"Shepard, you know I cannot risk anyone discovering who I am.  With the Normandy returning to Earth so you can address the batarian relay incident, well, it simply isn't safe for me."  She kept her voice level, even though she wanted to reach out and _throw_ Shepard.  _How can she not understand?_

"But we _need_ you to help against the Reapers!  How can you abandon us now?"  Shepard began to pace the observation room like some sort of feline creature in a too-small enclosure.  "We need you!  _I_ need you!"

"You don't need _me_ ," she responded, and watched Shepard's face contort with pent-up emotions.  It excited her.  "You need _anyone_ with the strength and ability to help, and you already have an a team.  _And_ an asari."  That last bit was a blow, and Shepard turned on her in a fury.

"I don't know why you're focusing on Liara.  She's not involved here!"  The Commander's eyes blazed emerald fire.

"Of course she is!"  She moved forward toward Shepard and stopped so close to her that they were almost touching.  She felt the heat coming off Shepard's body and nearly shuddered.  "Liara is involved in _everything_ you do, and when you can't have _her_ you flirt with _me_.  But, I'm not the innocent you're hoping for, _Shepard_."  She gasped - Shepard grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, hard, and she knew she'd be bruised.   A thrill coursed through her ( _Violence and sex_ ) and she laughed.  "Want to hurt me, do you?"

As suddenly as she'd grabbed her, Shepard pushed her away.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  Shepard walked across the room and sat down on one of the couches.  She followed and sat as well, just within arm's reach.

"Yes, you do, Shepard.  You just won't give in to it."

Shepard sighed, then changed the subject back.  "Look - you _knew_ I planned to fight the Reapers.  I thought that when you agreed to fight the Collectors you were in for the long haul..."

"Then that's _your_ misunderstanding," she interrupted.  "I never agreed to anything beyond your so-called suicide mission through the Omega Relay."

"But you know how important this is!  The Reapers are a threat to every species in the galaxy, including your people!"

She raised an eyebrow.  "And how often have I done something that wasn't for myself?  My so-called _people_ don't care about me; my own mother was sworn to hunt me down.  What do I care if the asari are forced to fight for their lives, as I was forced to fight for my own?  Maybe it's time for their superiority to be challenged, for them to feel hunted to the brink of annihilation!"

Shepard looked at her in astonishment, then changed course again.  " _Will_ you come with us, if I ask and don't assume?"  There was a note of...something...in her voice, and it made her look up and focus on Shepard's body language for a moment.  Without answering, she slid across the couch, cupped Shepard's face in her hands, and kissed her.

She managed to keep Shepard in the kiss for several moments ( _taste of your tongue in my mouth I know you want me_ ) before the Commander broke away.  "This is not the time!"

"Then, tell me when?"  She put all of her desire into her eyes, willing Shepard to give in.

Shepard stood up and stormed out of the room without another word.


	10. Chapter 10

She left Normandy before the conversation could be rehashed, partly because there wasn't a lot of time, and partly because she was worried that Shepard would convince her to stay for the upcoming fight.  Her Reaper-related plans involved staying out of their way and then, when the fight was over, figuring out what move was in her best interest.

 _And that's why I'm here, on this backwater planet._   She sighed; her surroundings were no different than they'd been an hour ago, but she was no longer inspired and energized by them.  She was growing tired of the scent of irrigation systems and the gentle hum of machinery.  She started to think about returning to the capital and catching the next flight off-planet, and then spotted a flash out of the corner of her eye.  She turned her head and saw a series of buildings that reminded her of those back on Thessia.  True, they were shorter - no graceful spires topped the structures which topped out at tree-level - but the curving lines, and large windows, and light color just _screamed_ asari.

Despite her initial surge of panic, she left the road and walked across the grass toward the buildings.  The ground was spongy underneath her feet and as she drew closer she realized that this was some sort of horticultural center - large greenhouses were attached to each of five separate buildings, and she could see the detritus of planting on the ground outside the nearest one.  Through the glass panes of the nearest greenhouse, she couldn't determine if there were people inside or not.  The panes of glass were hazy with condensation, and she guessed that the air inside was probably humid and thick.  Outside, things were quiet aside from the buzz of insects and a thin whistling that she guessed must be a water pump.

There was no door into the greenhouse as far as she could tell; she walked around the perimeter, but the only entrance appeared to be via the building itself.  Upon reaching the door into the building, however, she stopped short.  _Do I really want to risk it?_ She looked at the door, hesitating to reach out and press the button that would announce her presence.  On the one hand, she was curious to find out why asari might have settled outside the capital.  In addition, if there were no asari here, why did the construction look so familiar?  On the other...well, if she weren't _exceptionally_ careful, it was more likely an asari would figure out what she really was.  So, she stood in front of the door for what felt like an hour but was more likely to be minutes before finally reaching out and touching her fingers to the button.

Chimes echoed softly, but no voice came over the intercom.  She pressed the button a second time.  No response.  Frowning, brow furrowed, she touched the door itself and it opened with a soft hiss.  From the doorway she could see that the inside was filled with light.  Another doorway, this one without a door, was on the far side of the room, and she couldn't see what lay beyond it.  She leaned forward and craned her neck to the side to examine the rest of the room.   _Nothing.  There's nothing here._   Hesitating again for a moment, she finally moved forward through the doorway and into the building.

The room was empty of people - sunlight streamed through the windows, and there were plants growing in containers on almost every available surface.  A human-style ceiling fan turned slowly, and the air moving through the room was fragrant and moist.  Comfortable-looking chairs and couches were clustered into two groups, and a table with eight chairs was under one of the larger windows.  The room appeared no different than a hundred other rooms she'd seen, but the space felt overwhelmingly empty.  There was no sound of movement despite what she'd seen through the walls of the greenhouse, and no sign that anyone was in the building at all.  _Desolate_ , she thought.  _Why does it feel so desolate?_   Something in the back of her mind was on edge, but she couldn't quite pin it down.  She shook herself suddenly, like a dog shaking water from its coat, and headed toward the doorway at the back of the room.


	11. Chapter 11

The hall beyond the doorway was dark compared to the front room, but enough light seeped in that she was able to see where she was going.  Not for the first time, though, she wished she had better night vision ( _wouldn't that make sense in a predator?_ )  She stayed to one side ( _avoid an ambush_ ) and traced her fingers along the surface of the wall as she walked; it felt cool and smooth under her hand, and she had the sudden urge to rest her cheek against it.   _What is wrong with me?  Why am I stalling?_   She paused, contemplated ( _I'm still off-kilter_ ), and then decided to do a self-check.

By now, self-checks were routine and she could do them in seconds, but they always made her think back for just a moment to two very different times in her past.  The first, well, she didn't like to dwell on the first even though it laid the ground work for what she learned later and thinking about her mother always caused her rage to rise.  The second, though, that was something to savor - when she learned to ride her own body, find her weaknesses and snuff them out - but not now.  Instead, close eyes, sink back into the depths of the mind and trace the nerves from brain to end and back again.  Soothe the overstimulated 'til the rhythm resumed, quicken the slowed so it fired with the rest, stitch back connections that were frayed from overuse.  One pass each through circulatory and respiratory, then one again through bone, and muscle, and flesh, breathing slowly but deeply. _Inhale, exhale; mend the tears, smooth the creases.  Open eyes again, and survey your surroundings.  Never trap yourself._

When she opened her eyes, she was still in the hall and things remained quiet.  She could see a little more sharply ( _repaired cornea_ ) than before, and her confidence was bolstered.  She pushed herself away from the wall and began again toward the opposite end from where she entered, but a glide was in her step this time and all of her senses focused on figuring out what, if anything, was ahead of her.  Her boots made no sound on the tiled floor, and her leathers didn't so much as creak as she moved along.  The closer she came to the doorway, the more she slowed her pace until she fairly stalked the space in front her step by excruciatingly slow step.  Her eyes widened to catch any glimpse of movement; her ears strained for the slightest shuffled sound; her skin awakened to note the tiniest change in temperature or air density.  _Apex predator_ , she thought, loving the sensation of of being on-point, and crept into the room at the end of the hall.

As she entered, a strange scent hit her, and she moved so quickly across the room for cover that anyone witnessing it would say she flew.  Crouched behind a console, hidden in shadow, her nostrils flared _.  Electrical fire.  Extinguisher foam._   She opened her mouth, taking the scent in and rolling it around.  _Rotting meat.  Methane?_   Her tongue touched the roof of her mouth.  _Citrus rind, and spoiled fruit._ She shook her head in disgust, and resisted the urge to gag.  _Ugh, boot liners_.  Dampening her sense of smell, she listened to the room around her.  Nothing - no hum of HVAC, no murmuring of terminals, or buzz of lighting.  No footsteps, no rustling of clothing - she leaned her head around the edge of the console and looked at the room.  No one there, and when she loosened her grip on her nasal passages, she realized the scents were coming from the greenhouse itself.


	12. Chapter 12

"You'll want to concentrate on this."

Snarling, she glared at the asari that sat across from her.  Her cheekbones were high and prominent, her skin the shade of the waters of Lake Sirala, and her lips were lush and full.  In any other situation, she'd be one to stalk, catch, and feast upon.  She turned her eyes away and instead tugged at the shackles that bound her in place.

"You're only going to hurt yourself if you do that."  Saritha was amused, and picked up her glass of _elasa._ "I told you I would help you; why are you fighting so?"  She sipped, and replaced the glass on the table beside her.

"I.want.to. _leave._ "  She fairly spat the words at her captor, who laughed out loud.  Tears of rage and frustration welled up in her eyes, and she closed them rather than allow this woman to see her cry.

"My dear, allowing you to leave now would be no better than turning you over to a justicar!  You are in _no_ condition to take care of yourself, let alone avoid everyone who will be hunting for you."  Saritha sighed, and changed tactics.  "Didn't you tell me you weren't going to 'any stupid monastery'?"

"Yes," she responded, sulkily.

"And didn't you say that you wanted to be able to live your own life, on your own terms?"

"Yes."

"Then, why are you resisting me?"

"You're keeping me _locked up!_ "  She shouted so loudly that the glass on the table vibrated, and the woman smiled delightedly.

"I am keeping you _under control_ until you learn to control _yourself_.  You are strong, and will grow moreso, but only if you survive to do it.  Without my help, the odds...aren't in your favor."  Saritha stood, and moved to where her reluctant student sat, still vibrating with defiance.  "Shhhhh," she whispered, stroking her cheek.  "Everything will be all right."

She first met Saritha in Ulee, where she'd fled from her mother's house upon learning that the "condition" she shared with her sisters meant exile.  Despite being only 40 and not really knowing what to do or where to go, a survival instinct of some sort kicked in, and she was able to get herself to a transport hub and out of Armali before (she hoped) anyone noticed she was gone.  Knowing Ulee's reputation for being somewhat backward, she figured it might be a relatively safe place to hide until she was able to make a reasonable plan...and it was, until Saritha unmasked her.

Their meeting was incidental - a random bar on the outskirts of the city, an offer of a drink, and the words, "I know what you are."  Upon hearing this, she looked up from the drink in her hand, and met Saritha's gaze.  "And, what am I?"

Saritha smiled, and leaned in toward her.  "Ardat-Yakshi," she breathed along her neck.  "You, my darling girl, are Ardat-Yakshi."

"How...?  What...what makes you think that?"  She pulled away from the beautiful woman, cursing the apparent tremble in her voice, and nearly fell from her stool.  Saritha reached out, took her arm, and righted her in one fluid movement.

"It's amazing how many find their way here," she said, choosing not to answer the question.  "So many rumors about the superstitious natives of Ulee lead people to believe that they'll go unnoticed."  Saritha sipped from her glass of ice brandy, then turned back.  "Of course, that brings more justicars here as well."  Noting the look of panic on the younger woman's face, she said, "But, if you're not one, then it doesn't matter, does it?"

"I...I don't know what I'd do if I were."  She decided to try and brazen her way out of the trap she thought she saw closing in.  "I wouldn't want to go to any stupid monastery, if it were me.  I think people should be able to live on their own terms."  She looked away, feigning casualness, which gave Saritha the perfect opportunity to slip a capsule into her drink.

"I agree, wholeheartedly," Saritha replied.  "One should always do what one _wants_ to do."  She smiled as she watched the other's drink disappear.


	13. Chapter 13

She learned a number of valuable skills from Saritha, once she realized that she had no choice but to shut up and pay attention. Saritha was just one of a number of people who believed that the Ardat-Yakshi _were_ the genetic destiny of the asari, and she had an uncanny ability for sniffing them out, especially young ones on the run.  It was, she explained, what she used to do - as a bounty hunter, she'd been co-opted into helping justicars hunt Ardat-Yakshi a number of times and, Saritha said, for every one that needed to be taken out immediately, there were ten who were barely out of their thirties and terrified at the idea that their lives were over before they began.  So much potential lay in these young women, and they were just tossed aside before they'd gotten to be anything at all.

"And all for nothing."  Saritha's eyes flashed, the way they always did when the topic came up.  "Those poor souls, just tossed into a prison and never allowed to become anything.  And all that untapped potential, that could do so much good for the asari people..."

Saritha was convinced that the Ardat-Yakshi had a higher purpose, one that hadn't been found, but would soon be.  "And," she said, "that means we need Ardat-Yakshi, strong Ardat-Yakshi, once that purpose is discovered."  It became her mission, her life's work, in a way, to find these "poor souls" and give them what they needed to avoid detection until that time came. 

Every time she heard this, she'd roll her eyes - a purpose beyond survival, at the moment, did not interest her, especially one that would involve assisting those who'd condemned her so quickly.

So, Saritha taught her what she needed to know; how to hunt, take her prey quietly and dispose of it without detection.  She taught her to slip unseen in or out of any space, how to slow her heart and breathing to the point where automated scans wouldn't pick her up.  She learned to meditate and to go down within herself to find and fix imperfections; micro-tears in muscle, thinning of blood vessels, and hormonal imbalances could all be spotted and fixed on an instinctive level if she could find them and focus.  Her biotics were honed through constant drill until she could tear through muscle and shatter bone without breaking a sweat.

She spent three months altogether with Saritha; on the night before she was to leave, they went back to the bar where they'd met and Saritha set her free to hunt.  At first, she hesitated, afraid that she would be identified and caught...or killed.  But, as she moved through the crowd and found a seat, she allowed herself to revel in the sounds and scents around her while remaining alert.  When a pretty asari leaned over and offered to buy her a drink, she smiled and accepted.  Three hours later, she'd fed for the first time since the "incident" that led to her diagnosis, and the walk in the dark back to Saritha's home was exhilarating.  When she walked through the door, Saritha did a double-take at how changed she was - her eyes were bright, and her skin fairly glowed, and her smile was seductive and heady.  "You, you are _truly_ Ardat-Yakshi," she breathed, and Saritha fell to the floor in front of her in a bow so low her forehead scraped the floor.  She knew, at that moment, how close Saritha was to giving herself up to the next Ardat-Yakshi who came along...and so she leaned down and pulled her up and into an embrace.

The next morning, she left Thessia for what she hoped was forever, leaving behind no trace of her passage, or of Saritha.


	14. Chapter 14

The lingering scent in the air jarred her out of her reverie as quickly as it had sent her in.  She recognized it now - Saritha, so long ago, had the exact same issue with her own boots, and the smell permeated her home.  _Ugh_ , she thought.  _Bounty hunters in the greenhouse_ _._

As she crouched, still behind the console, she calmly began to lay out a plan.  The last time she'd dealt with bounty hunters on her own was when she'd been smuggled from Illium to Omega, and since then she'd gotten used to fighting with Shepard to back her up.  Her timing had to be flawless; anything less than perfection would lessen her odds, and she had no intention of spending time nursing wounds or having to run before she was ready.  So, _to the entrance on one, through it on two, barrier on three_.  She smiled to herself - she _loved_ the edge right before a confrontation, nerve endings tingling, muscles and ligaments quivering and ready to spring.  Add in the possibility of cutting a bloody swath through a group of mercenaries and, well, _heaven_.   _To me, anyway_ , she thought, gleefully.  And yet... _why can't I hear anything?_   Tilting her head toward the greenhouse doorway, she opened her auditory passages as far as they would go and wasted a precious moment trying to pin something down. 

Nothing, just as before. 

In a blur of speed, she leaped from behind the console and was through the door, barrier in place before anyone would have time to do more than blink.  As she looked up, reave at the ready, she realized two things: the smell was even worse now that she was in the thick of it, and she was the only one standing.  Literally.  Between rows of growing plants she could see bodies on the floor - some face up, and others face down.  Peering down at them, still on-point, she noted that while some were, indeed, heavily armed ( _not exactly bounty hunters, though)_ , some were clearly not.  For every two bodies in armor there was one in what appeared to be a uniform of some kind.  _Scientists?  Doctors?_   She remained on her guard, looking around the greenhouse carefully to avoid an ambush, and then she noticed the catwalk above the grow beds.  With a leap that looked impossible, she landed upon it in a crouch and immediately shifted to a ready position.

Looking down from above, a pattern started to emerge.    _Fifteen in all, five groups of three_.  Her mind whirred as she took mental picture after mental picture.  _Two in armor, one not_.  Click.  _Armor is white with black and yellow markings_.  Click.  _Unarmored bodies also white with black_ _and yellow_.  Click.  _Two armored to each unarmored_.  Click.  _Escort?  Transport?_   Click.   _What were they doing?  What happened here?_   She paused for a moment, then focused her attention on the closest grouping.  Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she saw it: the unarmored person was missing their right hand.  _What the fuck?_

She took a breath, then moved slowly along the catwalk hoping that a different angle would shed some light on what was going on, and as she examined each group from above she realized that the way the bodies were positioned matched.  One unarmored person between two with armor.  The unarmored person was face down, the armored were face up.  And each of the unarmored people were missing their right hand, and it appeared to have been sliced off cleanly.   _Burning flesh from the stump, laser cauterized._ The smell caught in her throat and she had to swallow against her gorge.  _Gah.  Burnt bodies and those fucking boot liners._

It took her another moment to slow her mind back down and realize that every single person lying on the floor was clearly part of Cerberus.


	15. Chapter 15

Glass shattered in all directions as she _charged_ through the ceiling of the greenhouse at breakneck speed and when her feet touched the ground she was off as fast as her legs and biotics could carry her.  The joy of her earlier run was gone as she flew across the pastoral landscape; foremost in her mind at that moment was getting to the port and getting the hell off Eden Prime, regardless of where she ended up.

Her thoughts were as fast as the rest of her.  _Cerberus.  I want nothing to do with them._   Her upper lip curled, and she moved into a posture designed to force air through her nostrils and down to her lungs, making it easier to prevent becoming winded.  _I don't care about what happened in there.  I can't care about what happened.  I have to move, NOW._   She cleared a fence without really noticing; her body was on autopilot now, and she'd stop when she was supposed to. 

_Where can I go?  My options are limited._   She thought about the connections from this cluster, and shook her head.  _Annos Basin.  Arcturus Stream._   Neither were an option from her point of view - salarian home-world in the one, human colonies in the other, including the Alliance Parliament.  _Hades Gamma - there's a decent shipping lane through there, and four or five potential systems._   She wished she had a better memory for astrographic data.   _Kite's Nest is definitely a no-go - batarians are likely to be first hit.  Horsehead Nebula?_    _Damn it, why don't I have maps?_   She cursed her justicar disguise and the necessity of traveling light and... _FUCK_.  She skidded to a halt and nearly toppled over.  Her traveling case was still on the catwalk back in the greenhouse.

She growled and kicked a rock in disgust.  _Idiot idiot idiot!  Never forget where your things are!_   Looking around, she realized she was ten klicks from where she started and she swore again.  Backtracking was a good way to get caught in things she wanted no part of.  Pacing back and forth, she argued with herself for a good ten minutes before accepting that she really had to go back and get the case - all of her accouterments for her best aliases, not to mention that  _stinking_ justicar armor, were in there.   _At least I'm fast_ , she thought as she broke into a jog back the way she'd come.

An hour later she was back in front of the greenhouse, and trying to find a way to get onto the roof without alerting anyone to her presence.  Things were still quiet and, aside from the shards of glass littering the ground, nothing appeared different to her eyes.  To avoid being ambushed she went back on point - mouth open slightly, hearing adjusted to catch the slightest sound, eyes scanning like a predator attuned to the tiniest movement.  She sensed...nothing.  A faint breeze blew, and she could catch the scents from inside the greenhouse now as they wafted out the hole she'd made during her exit, but there was no movement, no heat, and no sign of anyone save herself.

She crossed the yard to a set of shipping containers stacked along the side of the building, and began to climb.  Her grip and footing were sure, and in no time at all she reached the top.  Looking out across the area, things were quiet and she relaxed just enough to loosen her neck muscles, rolling her head in circles to rid herself of the tightness of being hypervigilant.  In the next moment, faster than anyone would swear was possible, she leaped from the top of the containers to the roof of the building, _charged_ to the hole in the greenhouse, and jumped through.

Her biotics cushioned her fall, and she landed on the catwalk as lightly as a feather.  After scanning the room and realizing that the scene was undisturbed, she moved quickly to retrieve her case and, once it was slung over her shoulder, crouched low to take stock of her situation.  The groups of bodies lay below, and she dampened her sense of smell to keep from being overwhelmed.  _Okay.  Back to Constant, find some supplies.  Then, to port.  Passenger?  Stowaway?_   She paused.  _Mercenary group not likely here.  No pirates.  Crew, maybe._   Her gaze was drawn back to the bodies.  _Not thinking about that now.  Need to get out._

Holding tightly to the strap over her shoulder, she _charged_ up and out of the hole again, this time landing lightly on the greenhouse roof.  She hopped across to the main building, then down onto the containers and to the ground.  She jogged away from the site at a reasonable pace and didn't look back, despite the itch between her shoulder blades that told her someone was observing her movements.


	16. Chapter 16

She chose to travel cargo this time; despite the trickiness, her desire to get off-planet was so strong that she knew she didn’t have the patience to wait for the next passenger liner.  Then, too, the complexity of negotiating the three minute window between crates being weighed and being loaded into the belly of the ship intrigued her. 

So, here she was, curled into a ball on her side underneath a decorative fruitwood table, with _just_ enough room to stretch one limb at a time so she didn’t cramp.  Despite her physical discomfort, she was pleased with how she maneuvered her way onto the ship; her instincts kicked in, and she was able to make all the right moves as if it hadn’t been 50 years since the last time.  The table (along with the rest of the cargo) was bound for Elysium, and she figured she’d slip out at Arcturus before inspection and then catch another transport somewhere.  Asari were often enough seen on the station that it made a useful transfer point, and none of the humans currently stationed there would remember that she’d passed through immediately following its opening.

To pass the time more easily, she closed her eyes and took herself through a series of meditation exercises designed to help with long periods of discomfort.   _One useful thing to have learned from Mother,_ she thought.   _Slow, slow.  All is calmed and still.  Slow, slow - the air is enough, the space is enough, the quiet is enough._   Her mind drifted as her autonomic systems slowed to barely discernible movements, and she found herself immersed in another memory.

*********************************************************

A glass in her hand, dark red wine that smelt of unknown fruit.  A couch, or as close as possible in this place; the material was supple but caressed her in an odd way, putting her a bit on edge.  Across the cabin, she could hear the sound of water and movement from behind a sealed door.   _Private shower_ , she thought.   _How perfect_.  She sipped from the glass and arranged her body in a pose designed for seduction.  

The door opened, and scented steam began to drift out into the cabin.  She leaned forward just slightly - enough to transmit interest but nothing more.

"Help yourself to a drink, if you haven't already."  Shepard's voice was rough, layered with pain, weariness, and something she couldn't quite name.  She heard the sound of Shepard wrapping herself in a towel and wondered if she'd sensed a visitor before or after opening the door.   _Does it really matter either way?_

Shepard padded over to her terminal, still partially hidden from view.  She opened the intercom.  "Kelly?  Could you have someone bring me another couple of bottles of the red?  The first is lovely, but nearly gone."

"Right away, Commander."  The intercom cut, and Shepard came around the desk toward her, veering off at what seemed like the last possible second toward the drawers where she kept her clothes.

"I hope I didn't startle you, Shepard."  She put a lilt in her voice to sound light and playful even as her eyes roamed Shepard's body, memorizing every inch so she could recall it later.   _Every curve, every muscle is delicious.  Did you wrap yourself to be a present for me?_  "I thought you might want some company after that...little escapade."

"Hmmmm."  Shepard appeared not to notice that she was being visually devoured as she searched through her drawers for something to wear, but appearances were deceiving often enough to be cautious.  "And what made you think that?"

"Well, it's not every day that someone gets charged by a horde of rampaging krogan."  She watched Shepard drop the towel and step into a pair of pants; she had to restrain herself from crossing the room to press their bodies together.   _I could eat you as easily as fuck you, Shepard.  Maybe I'll do both._

"That's an average day around here."  Shepard turned to face her, pulling a shirt over her head as she did so.  "You've got to come up with something much more interesting than that to make me  _need_ company."  

"I didn't say need.  I said  _want_."  She ran her tongue over her lower lip as she looked into Shepard's eyes.

"Oh.   _Want._ "  Shepard smiled, finally.  "Well,  _wanting_ company is something I do much more often."  A bell rang, and Shepard crossed to the door, opened it, and then came back with two bottles.  With a deftness that was surprising, Shepard uncorked one of the bottles and poured herself a glass before sitting down across from her visitor.  "Cheers," she said, holding up her glass.

"Cheers." She raised her glass to Shepard and took another drink.  "So..."

"So."  Shepard leaned back, seeming completely at ease.  "Tell me about yourself.  I always like to get to know my...crew.  And," she added, "before you ask, I've had EDI disable the bugs in here and agree that I need at least one place where I have complete privacy.  Although Joker seems to have her convinced I need it for different reasons than I intend."

She raised an eyebrow at Shepard, but said nothing.

"Joker appears to think that we might be doing something other than talking."  Shepard smiled, and sipped her wine.  "Of course, he also thinks you are your mother, so..."

"Of course he does.  I told you, Shepard, I haven't slipped while being Mother in  _centuries_.  Of course, it means I'm restricted to the mundane most of the time."

Shepard laughed.  "The life of a justicar seems anything but mundane."

"You'd be surprised how dull it can be.   Justicars have freedom of movement, which is why I don the role - I can go nearly anywhere as my mother - but every action must fit a specific frame of reference."  She sighed, adding just enough of a purr to her exhale for Shepard to hear but not enough to seem intentional.  "It's formulaic - modulate my voice to add layers of both virtue and pomposity, modify my posture so my spine appears perfectly straight even while bending..."

"You don't think much of justicars."  Shepard shifted her legs, one lean but muscular thigh pressing against the fabric of her clothing in a delightful way. 

"I don't think much of anyone whose goal is my destruction."  She watched Shepard without appearing to, and noticed an all too familiar gleam in the Commander's eye.   _I know you want me, even if you don't._  "I was sentenced to death before I had a chance to understand my crime."

"Death?"  Shepard's brow furrowed.  "I thought you were offered..."

"A life of "seclusion and comfort"?"  She interrupted Shepard; it felt very important that she be understood on this point.  "That's the standard line, you know, designed to make everyone feel better about locking away the Ardat-Yakshi.  'Seclusion' implies choice, that we choose to be taken away from everyone else to live among our "own kind", and that we're better off."  She reached for her glass and downed the contents in one swallow.  "Imprisonment, or death.  Go where we tell you, live how we tell you, and we won't put you down like a varren."

"So, you ran."

"So, I ran, before what happened to my sisters happened to me.  They submitted, and in doing so they lost themselves."  She reached for the bottle and refilled her glass with the dark red wine.  "Shepard.  Getting to know me means understanding one thing: I know who and what I am, and I will  _never_ submit." 


End file.
